


In Good Hands

by OwlsWithFins



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Conversations, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Protective Lancelot (Merlin), Scars, Tending Wounds, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26796859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlsWithFins/pseuds/OwlsWithFins
Summary: The moment Merlin pulled the bloody tunic over his head, he sensed someone approaching.He somehow managed to get two arms and his head into one hole in his attempt to hurriedly re-dress. If Arthur found him like this, Merlin wasn’t sure what would be worse: Arthur’s reaction to his obviously magical scars or his jabs about howMerlinwas the one who couldn’t dress himself.“It’s only me,” Lancelot said.With a huff of relief, Merlin aborted his effort to tunnel through his tunic’s head hole. He glared half-heartedly at the knight. “You scared me.”Lancelot smiled a bit at Merlin’s disgruntlement, but when his eyes ticked down to the seeping gashes in Merlin’s torso, the expression faltered.
Relationships: Lancelot & Merlin (Merlin)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 303





	In Good Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends! This fic was requested by both @dancelot-du-lac and @gremlinbehavior on Tumblr with the prompt "tending wounds." Hope ya like it!

Merlin bit back a hiss as he lowered himself onto a rock at the edge of the stream. Although he was far enough away from the knights that they probably wouldn’t hear him, he couldn’t take the risk. His scars were shocking enough to make even Arthur express concern, and Merlin didn’t know how to answer the questions that would ensue.

_‘How did you get that burn on your chest, Merlin?’_

_‘Oh, that little thing? The sorceress Nimueh hit me with a fireball, but don’t worry, it all worked out in the end. I simply used my very illegal magic to strike her down with lightning. Should we start building the pyre here or wait until we get back to Camelot?’_

No, it would be better if no one saw Merlin’s scars. And if that meant tending to his own wounds until they got back to Camelot and Gaius could take a look at them, then he would do it. 

Merlin winced as he shrugged off his jacket. He was lucky he had worn red today; the blood was barely noticeable in the dim evening light. In the morning, he would have to try harder to hide it, but hopefully most of it would rinse out in the stream--or maybe he could wear the shirt backward. 

The moment Merlin pulled the bloody tunic over his head, he sensed someone approaching. Shit. 

He somehow managed to get two arms and his head into one hole in his attempt to hurriedly re-dress. If Arthur found him like this, Merlin wasn’t sure what would be worse: Arthur’s reaction to his obviously magical scars or his jabs about how _Merlin_ was the one who couldn’t dress himself.

“It’s only me,” Lancelot said.

With a huff of relief, Merlin aborted his effort to tunnel through his tunic’s head hole. He glared half-heartedly at the knight. “You scared me.” 

Lancelot smiled a bit at Merlin’s disgruntlement, but when his eyes ticked down to the seeping gashes in Merlin’s torso, the expression faltered. “I thought you might need this.” There was a fresh tunic in his hands. 

As Merlin balled up the old one and set it aside, he watched Lancelot take in his canvas of scars. He had mentioned them once when Lancelot asked why Merlin didn’t want to join the knights for a swim, but Lancelot had never seen them for himself. Merlin tried to imagine how he would react if he saw these scars on someone else’s skin. 

Then again, anyone else would be dead. 

Not wanting to think about how close he’d come to failing his destiny, Merlin asked, “How did you know? Do the others...”

“No,” Lancelot replied, sitting on the rock and drawing Merlin’s medical bag into his lap. “I saw the bandit strike you.” He rifled through the supplies, ignoring Merlin’s attempt to steal them back to tend the wounds himself. The salve Lancelot picked was correct--he had watched Merlin patch up enough knights to know--and he paired it with a set of bandages and a scrap of clean cloth before setting the bag aside.

“You’re supposed to be looking after Arthur, not me,” Merlin chided. “He’s your king.” He bit down a whimper as Lancelot poured water over his wounds, teeth cutting into his bottom lip.

“Sorry,” the knight said, grimacing. He waited for Merlin’s permission to continue, and Merlin gave it with a stiff nod, forcing himself to breathe through the pain. He had dealt with far worse, but usually, he didn’t have to hide his discomfort. Almost dying while alone had its downsides, but at least there was no audience of knights waiting around the corner to overhear him or a concerned friend Merlin didn’t want to bother with his weakness.

Lancelot tucked the waterskin away and took up the cloth next, dabbing gently at Merlin’s skin. “I can say with great confidence that Arthur is in good hands." He gave the warlock a pointed look. “It’s his protector I worry about.”

Merlin's chest warmed at being called Arthur’s protector. He wondered if he’d ever get used to the feeling of being seen, known, understood. “I’m not defenseless,” he protested, but it was more petulant than he meant for it to be. He knew Lancelot didn’t think that of him.

Lancelot smiled softly. “Just too noble and heroic to look out for yourself when others are in need.” He dipped his fingers into the ointment and began spreading it on Merlin’s skin. It felt cool for a moment, then warm as Merlin’s magic entangled with the herbs to quicken his healing. “I don’t know how you do it. Giving so much of yourself--to Arthur, to Camelot, to any stranger you come across.”

“You do,” Merlin insisted. If anyone understood heroism or sacrifice, it was Lancelot. The other knights even teased him about it sometimes, although true admiration always hummed underneath. 

Lancelot shook his head, a shadow crossing his face. “Merlin...I may be a knight now, but I haven’t always lived with honor.” 

His words were somehow surprising and not surprising at all. Lancelot was the best man Merlin knew, so there was a part of him that was shocked to hear such an admission. But survival had a different code than the knighthood, and Merlin knew better than anyone that sometimes there were no good choices--only the ones a person made and the ones they didn’t.

“If you knew what I’ve done...” Lancelot started, but Merlin couldn’t let him continue that train of thought. 

“See this scar?” he asked, pointing at his chest. 

Lancelot glanced down and then nodded. There was a fierce glint in his eye like he was ready to fight whoever had put it there. 

_Too late,_ Merlin thought humorlessly. “A magic-user gave it to me,” he said. "I killed her.”

Lancelot’s lips parted, likely to voice a protest on behalf of Merlin’s honor, but Merlin wasn’t finished. 

“And she wasn’t the worst.” Merlin saw each death in his mind like a set of visions from the Crystal Cave. Some tore his heart as they happened-- “I poisoned Morgana when she was still my friend.” --but others didn’t hit him until long after the fact, rearing their heads when he’d nearly forgotten, haunting him as he tried to fall asleep. “I dropped a chandelier on a grieving mother.” And sometimes, worse than any of the deaths was the life he didn’t take. “I tried to kill a Druid boy.” Merlin swallowed down the guilt that sprung up both at his attempt to kill Mordred and at his failure. “If the opportunity arises, I’ll probably do it again.”

Lancelot was silent for a long time. Merlin was afraid to meet his eyes. He had lost track of the point he was trying to make, and now he just felt exposed, far more than he did when Lancelot saw his scars. He supposed emotional wounds struck the deepest. Maybe that was why none of these injuries had killed him; they were nothing compared to the mace he took to the heart with every decision he made, with every step he took toward destiny. He wondered if getting abandoned by the one friend who knew all of his secrets would be the blow that finally did him in.

Hands shaking, Merlin took the salve from Lancelot--Lancelot whose own hands had gone still during Merlin’s confessions. Merlin rubbed the herbal mixture into his skin, forceful nearly to the point of violence. It stung more than when Lancelot applied it, but it was bearable. He didn’t need Lancelot’s care. Merlin had known his path would be a lonely one, and there was no turning back now. The first lesson Merlin had been taught, back when he still didn’t know his letters or that most children had fathers, was that no one could know about his magic. _No one was supposed to know._ Which meant that his friendship with Lancelot was built on stolen time. Like his friendship with Will. Like his friendship with Freya. So Merlin could tend to his wounds on his own, the way he had done after each loss, each injury, each mistake, and the way he would do again until the day Albion dawned. He could do it. If only his hands would stop _shaking--_

“Thank you,” Lancelot said. He took Merlin’s shaking hands in his own, holding them in a tight embrace. Slowly, he pried the ointment from Merlin’s fingers.

When Merlin finally met his eyes, his mouth was too swollen with emotion to speak. Mercifully, Lancelot didn’t expect him to. He just squeezed his hands once more and then reached for the bandages. 

Lancelot didn’t offer verbal reassurances as he wrapped Merlin up, but his continued presence was enough. He had seen Merlin’s scars, both the ones marring his skin and the ones marring his soul, and he was still here, putting Merlin back together. 

It seemed Lancelot needn’t worry, Merlin thought as he reveled in his friend’s loyalty, in the novelty of allowing himself to be cared for. Arthur’s protector was in good hands too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are always appreciated.
> 
> If you'd like to [request a short gen fic](https://gwen-cheers-me-up.tumblr.com/post/630906970496483328/ive-been-in-the-mood-to-write-some-bbc-merlin-gen), send me an ask on tumblr (@gwen-cheers-me-up) <3


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